Life, ever after
by Remuslives242
Summary: DMHP series of oneshots about Harry and Draco's life together pretty smutty, if slash offends you, don't read this. flames based on CONTENT will be mocked. not rated for safety


Harry sat at the gleaming baby- grand piano, fingers ghosting over the keys, not playing anything, just touching lightly

Harry sat at the gleaming baby- grand piano, fingers ghosting over the keys, not playing anything, just touching lightly.

"What are you doing, Harry?" Draco asked as he came up behind him, running his fingers through Harry's hair gently as his eyebrows creased in confusion.

"Nothing… I'm just trying to figure you out. What you see in this thing, why it intrigues you so much, why you seem to love it more than me," Harry whispered the last part quietly and then sighed, bringing his voice louder again. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I love it when you play. And I recognize its simple, elegant beauty, but you put so much of your soul into it." Harry looked up at Draco and then turned away, blushing, ashamed at his confession, at showing his weakness, at revealing his insecurities.

"Oh, Harry," Draco said as he placed a hand on Harry's cheek and turned his face back toward him, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. "Scooch up," he demanded, nudging Harry forward on the piano bench, and getting on behind him, one leg on each side.

"Draco! There isn't enough room for both of us on this thing!"

"You're fine, stop complaining." Draco closed the meager space between them, placing a milky white, aristocratic hand over each of Harry's darker, more work-accustomed ones. "Now," Draco breathed in Harry's ear, eliciting a shudder from the smaller man, "What you don't seem to realize is that it's not that I love the piano more than you, but that I pour my love for you into my playing." He breathed lightly over the tender skin of Harry's neck before replacing his breath with his mouth, kissing gently. He moved his mouth up, to behind his ear, which he knew was Harry's favorite spot. The brunette leaned his head back, giving Draco full access, but the blonde pulled back and whispered, "Play with me," before starting a slow melody on the keys, pressing Harry's fingers down.

"Why?" Harry asked suddenly, turning his head to look at Draco with hurt in his voice and tears in his eyes. "Why couldn't you just tell me how you felt?"

Draco sighed and stopped playing. Putting as much difference between them as he could on the small bench, he hung his head. "Because I was ashamed."

"WHAT!?" Harry screamed, "Ashamed of what exactly? Me? Of my being Gryffindor? Of my friends? Because they are my family and I love them too. My parents? That I'm not pureblood? Could you really be so snoody? Because I thought you were over that. Or is it us? That we were enemies in the war and you are afraid of what people will think….oh!" Harry exclaimed, realization dawning on him and cutting him apart, "It's the fact that you like blokes, isn't it? Because, fuck Draco, had I known that this was just and experiment for you, I wouldn't have put everyth—"

"HARRY! Stop!" Draco cut him off. "I guess 'ashamed' was a bad choice of words. I guess I just meant…afraid. Shhh—don't say anything. Let me finish. Where I grew up, affection, love, any emotion was a weakness, and Malfoy's don't show weakness to anyone, especially not each other. I…I had this dog once, a wonderful puppy named Snuffles" Harry coughed at that "and I doted on him. My father realized that I loved him and gave him to our gardener's son. I used to see Snuffles and Jake playing in the yard and would get so jealous, but I had learned my lesson by then. I was nine. So I put my heart and soul and every emotion and passion into the piano because it was something my father approved of. The piano became my heart. I used to try to get my father to tell me that he loved me, but realized by that time that he didn't, that no one could."

"Draco—"

"Harry, stop, I don't want your pity, your sorrow. I got over the self pity a long time ago, and in my heart I know you love me, but I just can't bring myself to tell you that I …h-how I feel, too, because what if you don't fell the same way back? Even though I know you do, and I KNOW that it doesn't make any sense, but that's the way it is."

"I do love you."

"I know. Let me show you how I feel about you." And then he played. With Harry between his arms, between his legs, and between his hearts, he played. The song was beautiful. It swelled and plunged and rose and fell like the tide. Then, it changed, morphed into the rain and poured down and out, it sounded like Draco taking everything out in the music. Full of anger and passion. It changed again. The passion itself changed forms, became peaceful, like Draco was making amends with himself and slowly became loving, lustful. The music was wrapping around him, surrounding him. He lost himself in it. Entranced by it, intoxicated by it, aroused by it. Harry felt as though Draco's hands were on him, caressing him. And then they were, and Draco was whispering in his ear, breaking him out of the trance, "Did you like it? I wrote it for you."

"I love it. It was so…" Harry trailed off as Draco's hand slid down to the bulge in his pants and squeezed while his mouth found the spot behind his ear again. "Mmm…" Harry murmured incoherently as he arched his back, feeling the responding erection against his back.

Draco opened the buttons of Harry's jeans, sliding his hand down, under his boxers and wrapped around his cock, massaging it while grinding his erection down on Harry's ass. His hands left the moaning boy's penis with a whimper from Harry and they moved around back, pushing his shirt up his back, kissing each vertebra as it was revealed. Harry leaned forward, making a dissonant chord on the piano, but it went unnoticed as Draco slid his hands lower, down to his ass.

"Please, Draco, don't tease…" Harry whined as Draco slid his fingers around his ring of muscles, probing but not penetrating. "Please…"

Draco had had enough teasing, too and pushed Harry's pants down, unbuttoning his own a second later. Draco took the other's hands and braced them on the top of the piano, forcing Harry to half-stand. Draco reached around to Harry's mouth and ordered "Suck," and the smaller boy took three of his fingers into his mouth, the pressure of the Harry's mouth caused him to moan and he reached down to his anus again. He wasted no time and stuck two fingers in at once, making Harry jerk upright and arch his back, fucking himself on Draco's fingers. After a few moments of scissoring, he added another finger, and stuck it in deep, finding Harry's prostate when he curved it. "OH FUCK!! C'mon Draco, I want you inside me, pleasepleaseplease" Draco never could resist his lover's pleading. He grabbed hold of Harry's hips an pulled him down on his erect cock, all the way down, eliciting groans from both of them. "Move, dammit!" Harry all but growled at him. Draco set a fast rhythm, grunting every time he thrust upward. Harry bit one of his hands to keep from making any loud noise, but little whimpers were escaping around his fist, spurring Draco on. "harderfasterdeeper!" Draco pulled Harry down and thrust up HARD at the same time and the lithe man on top screamed. "OH GOD!" Still balls deep, Draco brought his lover down to sit on his lap, rocking gently side to side, gently brushing across his prostate, driving the boy insane. He stretched up to Harry's ear and whispered into it, emphasizing every other word with a sway, "You mean so much to me, Harry. You saved me from myself and you have my respect, trust, loyalty, and fidelity." He reached around and fisted Harry's cock, ending with a squeeze, thrust, and a reverent "and I love you so much," in his ear, the confession bringing Harry to a screaming release. Draco watched as his lover's body went taut; as his head fell back, his neck stretching; as his face erupted with pleasure, his eyes slammed shut; and as his fingers curled on the piano, his nails clawing at the shiny black surface. Overwhelmed with emotion and lust, he released his seed into the man he loved.


End file.
